


Fear of Darkness

by xantissa



Series: Fear [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I haunted his office, the corridors in a barely recognizable hope to see him, meet him, find anything that would remind me of him. But every scrap of memory, every room that I remembered him there, every echo of conversation long past, made me only realize so much more clearly that I needed him.<br/>3-09-2005</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear of Darkness

Jack’s POV

I was a fool, such a stupid, stupid man to think that knowing that he didn’t exactly die would help me get over it. But it took only one night, one lousy night filled with nightmares and memories to know that I could never forget him, never get on without him.

I haunted his office, the corridors in a barely recognizable hope to see him, meet him, find anything that would remind me of him. But every scrap of memory, every room that I remembered him there, every echo of conversation long past, made me only realize so much more clearly that I needed him.

Life became just a series of hours after hours, coming and going- one after another, merging into one meaningless blur. 

I stop the car and get out of it. It’s dark here in the woods, real dark. No city lights, no headlights of the ever-present cars, nothing, just the quiet and the trees. Yeah, I know. Me and the threes but it was different. It’s a special place. This small clearing in the middle of nowhere was his place. A place that he showed me one night after he came to me angry and hurt, seeking something he couldn’t even name. 

I still remember his rough hands, the barely controlled rage that shimmered just under his skin, the lack of any consideration when he forced himself into my body. If I close my eyes I can still smell his skin, hear the rustle of hurriedly removed clothing and can feel the sweet burn of his flesh stretching me, forcing, pushing inside and can still remember the surprisingly strong arms holding me down and irrationally stilling my own pain. There was power in him, dark, seductive and overwhelming, that brought me to my knees from the first moment I saw it.

He hurt me with his heartless visits, over and over again. His possession of my body in darkness, in total silence, was painful and cruel, but it was also absolute. 

Somehow I never seemed to be able to resist him. I let him come to my house, late at night, let him use me, hurt me, possess me… and I never really thought about stopping him.

I sit on the ground, the damp grass cold against my backside. I can feel the chill seeping through my worn jeans and it’s numbing my body, but nothing can numb the excruciating pain in my soul. 

There aren’t many things that matter to me, not anymore. I stare up at the sky, thinking about all those places he must have been, things he must have seen… as an ascended being.

God. After he had gone away, the nights became so incredibly dark. Like a thick satin, the darkness enveloped me in its coldness and numbness, sucking away all the joy and leaving only emptiness. 

I close my eyes and try to banish that memory from my mind. The sight of him standing on the ramp, his face calm, almost serene- illuminated by the white light… it was the only time I saw him so at peace with himself. 

He was always troubled, always fighting the good fight and trying to keep the inner demons at bay. But it took its toll on him. 

I have failed him so many times during our friendship, treated him like shit in the SGC, not listening to him in the field, not coming to help him when he struggled with the whole Osiris thing… there were dozens after dozens of cases when I failed him as a friend and as a leader.

Maybe that was the reason for his nightly visits. During the day, when he thought clearly he forgave me, just like he forgave Teal’c for killing his wife, but at night, when the nightmares finally got to him, were too much to handle, when the loneliness of his bed pushed at the edges of his sanity, then the anger and bitterness came.

He was angry and hurt and some part of him, that part that could be seen only in darkness, the dangerous part needed to blame somebody, needed to make somebody else hurt like he was. 

So he came to me.

Without words, without remorse he just came into me house and took whatever he needed. He was never physically violent, aggressive, probably knew that the moment he attacked me physically, my training would kick in and I would have him flat on his back in no time. 

But it could also be that being openly violent wasn’t his way. He was simply too damn smart for it.

On the other hand, he never really needed violence to hurt me if he really wanted. After all the first night spent with me, when with his cool detachment, almost despise he made my own body betray me, simply at his command, the night hurt me more that I could have imagined. Nothing could be compared to it. Nothing cut me ever so deep, not even Iraq. 

One word from him, one gesture could cut deeper than any knife. And still... I let him.

|Sometimes I was terrified of him. During those late night encounters when he was ripping off my soul one piece after another, I saw in him a person that terrified even me., the cold, calculating intelligence, darkly charismatic personality and drive, could have been the tools of ultimate evil. Although I knew him for years before, only then did I realize just how dangerous my friend could really be. 

I couldn’t help but notice that the first time he came to me was after that kid, Shifu gave him the teaching dream.

The Hersesis Child.

Apophis’ son.

His wife’s son.

A son that could have been his. 

I once approached him about it, about the dream he head, but he wouldn’t tell me anything.

He just took his glasses off, putting them carefully on a stack of papers he was working on then, and looked around, his eyes obscured by the glasses, stopped at the blackboard he used for his translations. His face darkened, became a mask of something dark and powerful before he finally looked back at me.

His eyes were so dark, that the blue was barley visible. God only knows how I hated that darkness inside him, how I was afraid of it. Afraid that one day, when the sun came up, the darkness wouldn’t leave him. 

“You don’t want to know.”

That night he came to me. He was chilled, as if he was outside without a jacket for a very long time before coming to me, his breath smelled of some kind of strong, exotic alcohol he used to drink and his eyes were haunted. 

He left me bruises that night. He was rougher than ever before. I could still remember the pain in my twisted arm as he pinned me face down to the bed, not really bothering to undress me or himself. He didn’t even think about preparation that night. It was the only night he took me without lube. 

I tore slightly, but it was to be expected. I didn’t think he really wanted to hurt me physically that night. The way his breathing pattern changed after he pulled out and saw the blood, told me that the sight shocked him, I’m sure. After that time he always prepared me.

I hated his visits and longed for them at the same time. I hated that he wielded so much power over me that he could come into my house, my sanctuary and make me spread for him like a cheap whore.

But I also carved those visits with all my soul.

I feel guilt, I suffer nightmares in which I relieve my deeds over and over again, and if I wanted to be honest with myself I could say that I viewed his visits partly like punishments.

And I needed him. Need him.

His closeness, his surprisingly strong hands forcing me down on the bed, the sound of his skin on mine, his smell. I needed all that to keep my own darkness at bay.

But it was also breaking me. Each time he left my house, each time I awoke up aching, sore and alone, feeling used and worthless, something inside me died.

I think I wouldn’t have lasted much longer. I was nearing my breaking point and some part of me knew it.

Maybe he knew it too.

Because one night, when it all was too much he stayed.

I will never forget how he looked in the harsh light of an early morning, sitting on my doorstep, his face unshaven and haunted, his eyes devoid of their usual protection - glasses. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen at that moment.

I have to close my eyes for a moment to chase away the burning behind my eyelids. I can’t keep it inside anymore. I feel grateful to the rain that started falling minutes before, it washes the tears of my face, removing all the traces of my emotion.

It was just my luck. Just when I finally started hoping that I could have something more with him...

... he died. 

A courageous, heroic act that saved thousands of lives. An act that should have taken only one life instead as a payment. Only his life. But somewhere along the way I realized, that there were two victims of his deed.

Him.

And me.

Because it all fucking lost sense after he died. I was left with nothing. None to share my life with. Only me and my nightmares.

Ever since his ascension the nights became a little bit darker, my soul a little bit more tired and my body a little bit older.

And now, almost a year later he comes back, back from the dead, as healthy and young as always only with one exception.

He has no memory.

No memory of SGC, no memory of me, Sam, Teal’c, Sha’re... nothing.

I sit unmoving on the ground, the rain soaking all of my clothes. I am cold, I can feel minute shivers that run through my body and I know I will feel like shit tomorrow, but it doesn’t matter.

I should go home and get warm, but there is no reason for it anymore. Because there won’t be a knock at my door, there won’t be any hand touching me, no body to keep me down, immobile, no lips to scorch a trail over my heated body. 

Because when darkness comes again, Daniel won’t come to me with it.

 

The End


End file.
